That Nagging Feeling
by arisingprophet
Summary: Eleven misses Rose. Rose needs a Doctor. My first story; be gentle. Will be continued.


I'd like to say I do not own Doctor Who (sadly). I also didn't have a beta, and this is my absolute FIRST time ever posting. Please be kind.

Also. Some references may be off; I haven't watched Who in almost a year. If it is anything obvious, please tell me! I will be happy to fix it.

* * *

_Rose._

It had been years, almost five, and he still thought about her everyday. It was not just once a day, but many times a day. The heartache never ceased. Sure, he was happy she had his Clone, but there was a nagging feeling of Rose Should Be Here and jealousy that dwindled it. Almost everything he did was graced with thoughts of Rose; Rose would have enjoyed this. She would have said that. She would have laughed.

His hearts clenched. _Her laugh._ Gods, how he missed it. It was one of the most beautiful noises in all the universe, and he was one to know. He had been to most of the universe and he had yet to find a sound that even touched on the sound of Rose's laughter. He loathed to compare his companions, he truly did, but he knew Rose was the best. She simply was. All smiles and brilliance and love and light.

When it first begun to happen, he didn't think much of it. It was normal for him to think of Rose. The slight tinge of urgency that happened along with the thoughts was ignored, reckoned to him being lonelier than normal. He had left Amy and Rory, doing his own thing for a while. He had River, and while he loved her and she was different from Rose, she wasn't Rose. If he believed in a silly concept such as soul mates, Rose would have been his. He knew it.

So when he had tried to sleep the one or two hours he needed a week and it was being interrupted with _Roseroseroseroserose_, he paid a little more attention to it. Not much, mind you, but he acknowledged that he was lonely and that he really missed her. He considered getting another companion, but something held him back. The TARDIS needed fixing. He could gather River and the recently-left Ponds and go on a little vacation. He could just take River. He needed to save the universe. Typical things that normally wouldn't have stopped him now did. He remained alone, the maddening urgency of Rose seeping into every waking hour - no, minute - of his hectic life.

Finally, when the TARDIS took matters into her own hands, did he really pay attention. He was on a quick trip, a safe one, to pick up a spare part. The TARDIS had been to this planet before, a dozen times, and she knew this trip well. Yet, as soon as his hands left the lever and sent her into the Vortex, she started to rip the wall between dimensions to the Alternate World With Rose. It took everything The Doctor had to keep her from doing it. He couldn't bare to see Rose, interrupt her life, ruin it again.

He rummaged and checked through all of the TARDIS parts, trying to figure out what went wrong. Almost a week later, he still had found nothing. He gave it up to her sensing how much he missed Rose and trying to rectify it. When he went to leave and the TARDIS did it again, well, then, he didn't know how to dismiss it. The TARDIS had never failed him, had never took him somewhere he wasn't needed. Sighing, he let the TARDIS do as she pleased, deep down excited to be in the same dimension and world as Rose. He knew this would be the only reason the TARDIS would do something so against her nature.

* * *

The TARDIS materialized on the place in this dimension she knew best - Bad Wolf Bay. As soon as The Doctor felt her land, there was a knock on the door. He was surprised, praying that Rose hadn't been waiting on this beach five years. He really hoped she had gotten on with her life, with the Clone, maybe even had little quarter Time Lord babies. When he gathered the courage and opened the door, he was confronted with a dozen soldiers instead. The leader, a strong, muscular, balding man stepped forward immediately. He held out his hand, and with a nod of his head, sternly said, "This way, Doctor." He motioned towards a rather advanced looking machine.

The Doctor was surprised and curious. He shook the man's hand and turned the way indicated, interested in the technology he was being presented. He immediately recognized what it was - a teleporter - and stepped into it joyfully, excited about the destination and adventure. There was a touch of relief - the nagging, urgent thought of _Roseroserose_ had dissipated as soon as the TARDIS had gotten them here. He didn't know how much it had bothered him until it was gone.

* * *

Out of the bright lights he stepped, and The Doctor immediately recognized Torchwood. He shouldn't have been surprised that they were waiting on a beach in Norway for him, but he still was. Who would go through the lengths to catch him in this world, if not Rose? He smiled slightly to himself, secretly pleased that Rose still missed him just that much. Boy, did he enjoy this girl. Even with a Clone of him, she still waited for the Real Doctor.

Yet striding towards him was not Rose, but Jackie. Jackie looked.. terrible. The Doctor would have joked that Jackie always looked terrible, but how bad she looked right now didn't warrant it. Suddenly he was frightened, fearing for both himself and Jackie and Rose and Pete, but right now with Jackie rushing towards him with such purpose, mostly himself. He had a right to be - as soon as she was within reaching distance, she reached out and slapped him. He had been slapped by her before and this was nothing like it. This was pure fury.

"Took you long 'nough!" She screamed, launching into a verbal attack immediately. "We've been waiting months for you, MONTHS! We've needed you and you bloody well don't even bother to show up to save the world your precious Rose is on!"

The Doctor was dumbstruck. Save the world? He didn't feel anything amiss. His numerous psychic abilities, Time Lord-y thingies, felt nothing unusual about this world. In fact, it was strange at how.. safe this world felt. What on earth could this woman be talking about, then?

"Come again?" He asked, simply, hesitantly. He did not fancy being slapped again, and by the way Jackie tensed, she thought about it. He took a step back, warily watching her, all the while aware that slowly, people were beginning to circle them. Interested spectators, eh? They almost looked amused, but there was this nagging sensation that everyone here looked sad about it, too.

"You don't even know?" Jackie asked, her voice raising to an almost painful pitch. The Doctor winced and shook his head once. No, he didn't know. He actually had no clue what Jackie was talking about, why she suddenly looked about to cry, even amidst all the rage that was rolling off her. "You didn't even bother to check up on her, did you?" Her tone said it all - she accused him of whatever was wrong.

"Rose knows I do not check up on my companions," he whispered, his hearts quickening. Something was wrong. Where was Rose? Why was Jackie now actually sobbing? What on Earth is going on?

"I took you for better than that, Doctor," Jackie muttered, tossing her head back to look him in the eyes. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, and for one brief moment, The Doctor considered comforting her. He mentally winced at the idea - this was Rose's mother, and she had just slapped him. "It's... bad. Your double is dead. Rose has been in a coma for months now, Doctor," Jackie was whispering now, the words broken with the sobs she tried to muffle. "It recently got worse. A week ago. Our doctors want to take her off life support. She... wouldn't make it."

For a brief moment, time stopped around the Time Lord. The Doctor was dumbstruck. He stared at Jackie, waiting for the punchline, the end of this terrible joke. He looked around, frantically, waiting for Rose to jump out. When he could see no movement of the group of workers, soldiers, and the like around him. Most of them wore sad expressions, and a few of the women even had tears running down their cheeks. A few of the men, too.

He tried to sort his emotions, get a handle on himself, make himself THINK. He was a Time Lord, The Last Time Lord, The Oncoming Storm, and he could not THINK. Fear was welling in his head, anger, sadness, and once again, the urgency returned, full force now, not just the nagging, tingling sensation in the back of his head, but enough that he couldn't even hear anything around him. He dropped to his knees, letting out an anguished, single sob, before staring up at Jackie, determination on his face. "Show me," he said, snapping himself together with the single emotion.

Jackie whirled, and the crowd parted like the sea. She moved quickly, the Doctor up and right on her heels, through the facility. People stopped working and stared, some even followed. The Doctor could sense they all knew who he was. Some stared in awe, some in sadness, some in fear. They all knew. They came to what was obviously a hospital wing, and Jackie pointed to the first room on the right. She made no other movements, simply standing and showing him the way. He needed no further encouragement.

He took a deep, steadying breath, preparing him for what he was about to see, and opened the door.

* * *

That steadfast breath wasn't enough. Seeing her laying here, hooked up to machines with tubes and wires, broke both his hearts. He wanted to cry, to damn the universe for destroying something so precious, so beautiful. He wanted to kill something, or someone, whatever did this to her. Gods, he was both angry and sad and just miserable. He took no further steps into the room, just standing in the doorway, staring at her.

He had knowledge - that was all it was, he wasn't truly hearing anything, it was all background noise - of some kind of sound. It was different, something he hadn't heard often before but his body recognized it. He seized the thought, desperate for something to distract him from the sight before him, trying to ponder out what it was. He was finally pushed into action when he realized the noise was the sound of his own choking sobs. Muffled, deep down in his chest, but still audible.

He took one step forward, then two, and the next thing he knew, he was beside her bed. She looked so frail, so broken, so like Rose and unlike Rose that it killed him. He could see the remains of scars littering her body, the way the muscles seemed to have not been used in a while. He could sense far more about her; the way the machine really was keeping her alive, breathing and pumping mechanically for her. With a quick scan of the sonic screw driver, other than her body being unused, he truly found nothing wrong with her. Sure, there were a few scars on the inside, too, but ultimately Rose was healthy.

So why wasn't she moving? Why was she like this dead thing that only looked like Rose? Why wasn't she smiling, laughing? He stared at her lifeless form, trying to think, trying to conclude this puzzle. Trying to save Rose.

He wasn't sure how long he had been there, but suddenly he was aware that someone else was with him and it was dark in the room. He didn't need to look up to know who it was. He flinched, hoping he wasn't going to be slapped again. He certainly didn't feel the waves of rage coming off her now, only sadness, but he knew Jackie could change in a second.

"What do you think, Doctor? What's wrong with her? We can't find anything wrong with her..." She whispered, looking sadly down at her daughter. He could tell by her voice how much she missed Rose as well. He pondered her question, weighing it in his mind against the reasons he had thought out earlier. Only after she cleared her throat loudly did he think to answer her.

"She isn't there. Yes, this is Rose's body, but Rose technically is not there," he whispered back, feeling that talking normally would somehow make things worse. He accented his words by pointing to her head, indicating where "there" basically meant. At one point, he remembered, that Jackie might have called him mental for some of his answers. He hoped she simply accepted what he said.

"Then where is she?" She responded, and The Doctor sighed mentally in relief. He wasn't going to have to explain or argue with Rose's mother, and that always was a good thing.

"I do not know, but I'll find her. I promise you, Jackie, I will find her."

* * *

The Doctor stood by Rose's bed another twenty-four hours before he finally moved. During those twenty-four hours, he could not be persuaded to leave, to eat or drink, or to even sit down. He simply stared at her, lost in thought. When asked what he was doing, he would simply say, "Doctoring."

When he moved, he left Torchwood completely. He went to the teleporter, setting it to Bad Wolf Bay himself, and once there, went into the TARDIS. He could not be made to come out. Even Jackie pounded on the door, damning him to every version of hell for locking himself away, and he simply never answered. After a week, they stopped bothering him. There was still always a dozen of soldiers there, surrounding the TARDIS, but they did not bother him.

After two weeks, he emerged with a strange little helmet. He looked awful; he appeared as if he hadn't slept or bathed in those two weeks. It was actually true - from the second he stepped foot into the TARDIS two weeks prior, he had worked on this simple looking helmet. He returned to Rose's room without a word to anyone, set determination back on his face. Jackie was there, looked up when he entered, and left the room. She said nothing to him, either, only simply bobbed her head in a nod.

He closed the door quietly, walking over to Rose in long strides. He placed the helmet on her head, taking delicate care of her hair. Pressing the sonic screwdriver to it, he closed his eyes. To an outside observer, nothing appeared to happen; knowing The Doctor, the impossible was happening right this moment.

He had constructed the helmet to enter dreams. He had a theory that Rose, upon the death of the Clone, had given up on life. She didn't have her Doctor, she didn't have the Clone, and she had probably not been able to deal with the grief. He did not blame her. He felt sorry for her, his hearts breaking again and again when he thought of what she must have went through. He couldn't help but blame himself for it.

Upon entering her dreams via the helmet and sonic screwdriver, he noted he was back inside the TARDIS. The TARDIS from her day - he had changed a little, here and there, from his previous reincarnation's. He did not immediately see Rose, but he saw her presence, a pink brush laying beside the console. He smiled, remembering how he used to tease her about cluttering his work space, and how she would get so upset at herself for it. He never had told her he didn't actually mind - in fact, he liked it, he loved the little reminders of her presence - but he made sure to tease her whenever he saw it there.

"Who are you?" The shrillness of the voice startled him, and he whirled towards the sound, his hearts leaping in joy, shadowed lightly by the fact that her voice sounded off. When he finally saw her, he gasped. It was Rose, alright - the Rose the night he met her at Hendrik's. He had forgotten how young, how innocent she had looked then. His hearts skipped a beat at how beautiful she still was.

"I'm The Doctor. Who are you?"

"I'm Rose, and I know The Doctor. It isn't you. You do not look like either one of them! Y - you're goofy! And young!"

He smiled despite the situation. Typical Rose.

"I am not the Doctor you knew, Rose. You last knew Ten. I'm Eleven," he chuckled, bowing his head toward her in introduction.

She looked surprised. Emotions chased each other across her face; relief, shock, happiness, lust, sadness. Her face stopped on sadness, a frown gracing those beautiful lips. "So you died, then."

He winced then, not wanting to stay on the topic of death, not wanting to sadden her. He meant to get her back, not to make her stay here.

"No, Rose," he whispered, looking up at her, meeting her eyes, "I simply changed again. You know, like how I did when I took the Time Vortex from you. No big deal, really, I am still The Doctor."

She frowned still, looking him over again. The frown lessened a little, her eyes slightly lightening up. "You always come back as handsome?" she teased, offering him a forced smile. That was his Rose - smiling despite herself, always trying to cheer him up.

"Can't help it. I think the bow tie helps, this time."

She looked him over again, focusing on his neck, her eyes narrowing at the little object there. For a second, she seemed to be about to disagree, but then she laughed - oh, gods, her beautiful laugh - and ran towards him, launching herself into his awaiting arms.

"Oh, I missed you, so much," she cried, sobs raking her body, her arms desperately clinging to him. "He was you, I know, I know, but it wasn't you, yea? And I loved him, I did, but he wasn't you, and then he was dead, and I had nothing, I had no Doctor," she stopped talking, sobs taking over.

He held her tightly to his chest, cradling her the best he could from their standing position. His hands rubbed her back, letting her get it all out, making gentle cooing noises to her. He gave her one minute, then five, and when ten was closing in, he finally pulled away a little to look down at her. She was still crying, heavily in fact, but the sobbing noises were quieter.

"Rose," he whispered into her hair, remembering the smell of her lovely strawberry shampoo, "Oh, Rose, I love you."

She choked out a gasp, sputtering out random nonsense, jerking away from him so hard almost as if he had burned her. He looked on in shock, looking over the suddenly terrified and angry girl. He idly wondered if this was a normal response for her when someone told her they loved her, but decided to not ask. Now was definitely not the time, he told his overworking brain.

"You're not The Doctor," she snapped, all fury and fear in her words, "Get out, Get Out, GET OUT!", she screeched, and suddenly he was back in the hospital room.

* * *

He stood there in surprise at having being actually thrown from Rose's dream. What had he done wrong? He had held her while she cried, then told her he loved her. Clearly the catalyst was the love bit, but why had she reacted so violently? Did she really think he didn't love her? Is that what his leaving done to her - made her believe that the real Doctor didn't love her?

"Oh, I'm such an idiot," he muttered to himself. He tried to connect with her again, to enter that dream world of hers, only to be met with a firmly shut mental door. He knocked, as would any gentleman, only to have a suddenly wailing scream sound. When he finally left the door, the sound stopped. He was back in the hospital room, now with Jackie by his side.

"Well? How'd it go?"

"...She kicked me out," he announced, sadly, still staring at his beautiful Rose in the helmet, "I need to think."

Instead of heading from the room, he went into the attached shower, shut the door, and locked it. Soon the sound of running water could be heard.


End file.
